The terrible twosome
by Z.jean
Summary: "Can I be in Gryffindor?" I asked. The students broke out into a fit of whispers and giggles at my question. It seemed legitimate to me, but everyone else was acting as though I had just asked to pop a squat on their holy magical golden toilet.
1. Chapter 1

**This story will switch POV's between the two OC protagonists. **

**Charlie**:

I stood awkwardly smashed in between the rest of the first years. I had to keep on my toes to peer over the crowd of eagerly bounding heads, but I was surprised to see that we were all centered around a small ratty looking hat on a stool. It slumped precariously over the side of the stool on which it was placed, with holes and rips and stains. I know its rude, but all I could think was how little I wanted to put it on my head.

I looked over at the girl next to me, who was staring at the hat with her nose scrunched up and her head cocked to the side. She was slightly taller than me, with wavy red hair, which she was keeping in a high bun. She was a pretty little girl, I'd say, and judging by the look on her face she was just as confused as I was.

"Why are we all standing in front of that silly little hat?" I asked hesitantly.

"Dunno," she admitted, "We're a strange bunch, aren't we?"

I nodded. "It's kind of cool though," I said. The hat was so slumped and folded, I could make out the contours of a grimace. I found myself mimicking the hat what I saw as the hat's face, and looked up at the girl.

She laughed, "That's pretty good!" And then she made the same face. I don't know why, but I really liked this girl. "I'm Amy." She said as she put out her hand. I wasn't one for handshakes, so instead I slapped her palm. It didn't seem to bother her too much—in fact she looked quite pleased with the gesture.

"Charlie," I said.

"Nice to meetcha!" Amy said. Just at that moment, the woman who had lead us up to the hat stepped in front of the entire hall. She was wearing an emerald green robe, and a big black pointed hat. Her face was worn, and exhausted, the face that teachers and presidents get because they're working far too hard for their own good.

"Good evening students!" She said as she raised her frail little hands, "Welcome to Hogwarts. As most of you know, I am Professor McGonagall. In just a few moments, we shall begin our start of the term banquet." Amy and I exchanged glances with the word banquet, and then giggled to ourselves. McGonagall eyes flicked towards us, and then back up to the rest of the room. "But before you all take your seats, you will be sorted into houses. Now, there are four different houses—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin."

I quickly lifted my hand into the air, which seemed to shock McGonagall. At first she said nothing, but I waved my hand in the air so obnoxiously, she finally had to call on me. "Can I be in Gryffindor?" I asked. The students broke out into a fit of whispers and giggles at my question. It seemed legitimate to me, but everyone else was acting as though I had just asked to pop a squat on their holy magical golden toilet.

"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall gasped.

"She said she wants to be in Gryffindor," Amy repeated in a raised voice.

McGonagall really looked lost now. She began scanning the room frantically, and then her eyes landed on an old man with a long beard and a purple robe, who was sitting behind a table with the rest of the professors. He seemed to be slightly amused by our question, and was just sitting there with a feint smile on his face. McGonagall than closed her eyes, and sighed deeply.

"No," she said, "I'm afraid you'll have to be sorted with the rest of the first years. It's only fair."

"How is that-" I tried to jump in but McGonagall was already hushing the rest of the murmuring room. A crossed my arms and huffed. The hat then suddenly twitched up, and began to sing, sending us first years in a wave a shock.

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see, _

_I'll eat myself if you can find _

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep you bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts sorting hat_

_And I can top them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see, _

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff_

_Where they are just and loyal_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in the wise old Ravenclaw, _

_If you're a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning, _

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends, _

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Then, the hall burst into a fit of applause, all of the old student jumping up and down in their seats, banging their fists on the table. Each table—or rather—each house grew louder when the hat turned and bowed.

"It is a face!" I muttered to Amy, watching in awe as the hat smiled.

"Abbot, Hannah," McGonagall called over the excitement of the he room. A small stout girl with a round face and orange hair slowly approached the hat. McGonagall lifted it up, and placed it on her head. The hat perked up, and then shouted –

"Hufflepuff!" The Hufflepuff burst into cheers as Hannah bounded happily over to the table. This went on for quite some time, until Amy's name was called. Amy crossed her arms and pouted, as if she was not at all happy with the fact that she had to go up and be sorted.

"Helville, Amy," McGonagall called for the third or fourth time, "If you do not approach the hat this instant, I will be forced to put you on the train back to London immediately." Amy rolled her eyes, and then slowly stepped up to the chair. The hat did not even need to be placed on Amy's head before it shouted.

"Gryffindor!"

Amy looked smug as she sauntered over to the Gryffindor table. No one clapped, two people were laughing at the astounded look on our dear professor's face. When we finally got to the 'M's, my nerves were on fire. I couldn't keep from tapping my foot, much to the boy next to me's dismay. A small boy with a heartshaped face and round glasses and green eyes.

"Do you have to do that?" He asked irritably.

"Yes, Mr. Smarty-pants, in fact I do. I have restless leg syndrome, and I must extert my energy in some way," I lied. The boy pushed his glasses back up his nose, which had been slipping down.

"Can't you exert your energy in another way?" He asked.

"I could punch you." I said quickly. That shut him up, and we both turned back to the hat. A boy with slicked platinum blonde hair had just gone up, and looked pretty pleased with himself for being the newest edition to Slytherin. The Slytherin table looked happy as well, and I wondered if he was royalty or something.

"Melsack, Charlotte," my heart leapt. It was my turn. I slowly moved up to the stage, and sat in the chair. The hat was then placed on my head, and it wriggled around on top of me. My head jerked back and forth with it until it finally shouted.

"Slytherin!" The rest of the tables were already mumbling and snickering to themselves, probably because of the fact that I had _already_ made a scene about wanting to be in Gryffindor. The Slytherin table was about to clap, although not with excitement, just some bitter obligation.

"No!" I shouted. The whole room went silent. "No, I don't want that."

"Excuse me?" The hat hissed, "I have spoken, that is your place." I shook my head again. "Yes, you want Gryffindor, correct? I'm afraid I don't see you fitting in there. It's true, you have courage, that much is obvious—and yet, more so I see your lust for power and strength. It's that _lust,_ that separates you from the Gryffindor's. Slytherin will foster that, you shall see."

"_I said, _I want Gryffindor." McGonagall was now looking horrified with my reaction. I looked over at Amy, and she was sitting straight up, chewing on her lip expectantly.

"No. Slytherin," The hat said, "That is my final decision."

My heart sunk. Was I seriously placed in Slytherin? I wanted Gryffindor. Why? I didn't know why, I just knew I did. I pouted and then slowly moved off of the stool, taking a spot next to the blonde boy from earlier. He put his hand out to me with a smirk, and said, "Hi, I'm Draco."

I looked up at him, and then sunk into my spot at the table. I watched as everyone else was happily sorted into their respective houses—the boy with glasses was apparently extremely famous, and just like me he begged not to be in Slytherin, except the hat actually listen to him. Gryffindor cheered as the boy approached the table, shouting _We got Potter! We got Potter! _Over and over again.

So much for a new start.

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**Hey all! Thanks for reading my story. It's been awhile since I submitted to FanFiction, but if you guys like this, I'll keep going. As a first step, I'd really appreciate if you could let me know if you like it, tell me what you think about the length (should I shorten my chapters? Lengthen them?) etc. Thanks thanks thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Amy**:

Harry Potter approached our table and sat down. Almost every student from Gryffindor, new and old, came to pat him on the back and tell him how honored they were to meet him. Harry looked surprised each time someone came to talk to him, as if he had no idea why there were so interested in him. He was only one person away from me and separating us was a pudgy boy with a tiny face and large front teeth. Neville, I think, was his name. I tapped Neville on the shoulder, and he glanced over at me.

"Switch places with me?" I pleaded, with a bat of my eyelashes.

"Why?" Neville asked. "Is there something wrong with your seat?" Professor McGonagall was still going through the names, and people were adding up at the end of the tables, and I felt I had little time before the real speech would begin.

I leaned over to set my hand on Neville's shoulder. He flinched a bit, but did not pull away. "You see that girl over there?" I said, pointing my wand towards Charlie, who had her head down on the table with the Slytherin's. I'd have to apologize to her later for using her in my little scheme, "You see, I heard that she put a curse on the spot that you're sitting at," I explained, making up something that sounded magical _and_ believable.

"How do you know that?" Neville said. He adjusted himself in his spot, glancing down in between his legs.

"She told me so." I said, "She really wanted to be a Gryffindor, you see, and so she put a spell on this seat to make sure she would be the only one who could sit on it. Anyone else…" I threw my hands in the air dramatically showing him that the curse would set off an explosion, which made Neville swallow. "Anyway, I happen to know the counter curse. But the only way I can do it is if I'm sitting there."

Neville looked at me with uncertainty. He needed to hurry up, McGonagall was on the last two kids! A boy named Ron Weasley had just taken his spot on the stool, his face contorted in fear. I tapped my foot impatiently. _Come on, Neville, just say yes!_

"Okay," Neville said. I smiled and then pulled myself out of my seat as people burst into cheers when Ron was sorted into Gryffindor. Neville scooted over, and I took my place next to Harry Potter. Harry only glanced over at me momentarily, and then turned back to congratulate Ron Weasley.

While McGonagall was finishing off the names, I twirled my wand a few times and muttered some gibberish for Neville's sake. When I was done, I smiled at Neville and gave him a thumbs up. He looked down at my seat, and then at my wand and back at my chair. He probably knew I was lying, so I turned back to the sorting hat to see Blaise Zambini walking over to Slytherin and taking seat next to Charlie.

Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster, approached the stand. He put his arms out wide and welcomed us to Hogwarts. I looked around the room. Nearly every student was beaming up at him, like he was some kind of god. Must've made him a god, in a way. The God of Hogwarts! I could deal with that. I looked to see Charlie's reaction—she had her head propped up on one elbow with her dirty blonde bangs down over her face. She puffed, making a piece of it flutter up in the air, and back down in a different position.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore continued, "Before we begin, I'd liked to say a few words. Here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddemnt! Tweak! And thank you!" With that, Dumbledore sat back down. Oh, yes, I liked him a lot.

Harry Potter leaned across the table, to a boy with red curly hair and a long face. "Is he," Harry began as he tried to choose his words wisely, "a bit mad?"

The red head laughed and responded quickly, "Mad? He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But is he a bit mad? Yes." He reached across the table, and lifted up a plate, "Potatoes, Harry?"

I looked down at our plates. I could've a sworn just a few moments ago, they were all empty, and now they were piled high with food! The most amazing kinds of food too—much better than my old school's old dinning hall. It all looked positively delicious, and I quickly began stacking it on my still empty plate.

"Does this happen every meal?" I asked the boy who Harry was just talking to.

He nodded, "More or less. They like to switch things up, on occasion. Ron—don't eat too quickly, you'll choke." I leaned over to look at Ron Weasley, at the other side of the table. He had a large piece of chicken stuffed in his mouth, and was still trying to shove more in.

"Quiet, Percy," Ron said through his food, "I feel like I haven't eaten all day."

This seemed to shock Harry, for he looked up at Ron with confusion, "We bought the entire lot of the trolley on the train." Ah, so that's why there was no food left when it got to my end. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley must be rich.

"I hope that wasn't all the money that mum gave you," Percy said, "I won't be helping you if that's the case."

Ron sneered at Percy, who I assumed was his brother. They both had the same red hair, light skin, and freckled faces, and they were both towering about everyone at the table. "Harry bought it, Percy, and we shared it."

"Yeah," Harry said, "I wanted to."

Percy shrugged, and then turned back to all the old students on the other end of the table. Across the room, Charlie was talking casually with the two boys she was seated next to, meaning Blaise and Malfoy, although she didn't look too happy about it. To be perfectly honest, she spent most of the conversation forking her food around her plate as she pouted while the boys talked over her, occasionally asking her something. Malfoy nudged her and nodded towards me. She looked up at me, and then quickly back at her plate, leaning over it as she began shoveling it her mouth. Malfoy laughed.

I'd met Malfoy on the train. He was yelling about how my things were in his way, and if his _father_ were there I would be sent back home. In the end, I hit him, and he went scrambling away like a coward.

"So," Ron suddenly said. I jumped out of my head and turned to see that both Ron and Harry were facing me, "What's you name?"

"Amy," I said with a smile. "And you're Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

Harry nodded, content with my response, while Ron's mouth was hanging open. Ron cleared his throat before he spoke, "I know how you know Harry, but how do you know me?" He looked at me so expectantly I couldn't help but giggle.

"They did call your name a few moments ago," I said. Harry laughed, and nudged Ron who was sinking into his seat. Harry muttered something under his breath to Ron, and Ron told him to shut it. I leaned farther into their conversation, "Sorry if this is rude, but, I'm muggle-born and I don't really understand why you're so famous." I said to Harry.

This didn't seem to bother Harry at all, for he just shrugged and said, "I don't really understand it too much myself. I just found out about it a few weeks ago." I scrunched my face up, and Ron quickly interjected.

"I can explain," Ron said, "so, about 10 years ago, there was this guy, yeah? I can't say his name, but he thought that all Wizards should be pureblood—"

"'Pureblood?'" I repeated.

"Oh, it means no muggle blood. Just wizard's blood. Anyway, he-who-shall-not-be-named went around killing anyone who wasn't pureblood. My dad says it was a really dangerous time for anyone back then, and people who stood up to you-know-who were usually hunted down and killed. So, one day when Harry was just a Baby, you-know-who went to Harry's house kill him and his family. But when you-know-who went to kill Harry, he defeated he-who-must-not-be-named and saved everyone!" Ron finished with a satisfying sigh, "The only thing that you-know-who managed to do to Harry was leave a lighting-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. It's really there too-show it to her Harry!"

Harry smiled and lifted up his bangs to reveal a scar that was indeed shaped like a scar. "Huh," I said as I stared at it. Ron grinned as he lifted his chin with pride. "Neat trick. I don't get it at all though," I admitted.

"What part do you not understand?" Ron asked.

"All of it." I replied.

"Basically," Harry began as he lowered his hand from his forehead, "a man named Voldemort was going around killing wizards, witches, and muggles alike; and when I was a baby, I was able to stop him."

"How did you stop him?" I asked.

"I don't know," said Harry.

"Harry's a great wizard, and is amazing with magic," Ron added on.

"And what happened to Voldemort?" I asked.

"I don't know," said harry.

"Obviously, he died. Harry made sure of that," Ron added again.

"Why does he know more about you than you do?" I asked motioning to Ron. "You seem just as new to this as I am." Harry shrugged, and fiddled around with the fork on his plate.

"I kind of am," he said. "After all of this happened with Voldemort, I was sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle in Surrey. They never told me the truth about magic, so I grew up thinking that there was none." I didn't ask anymore questions. It seemed to me that that meant his parents weren't able to raise him—they'd died. I didn't want to ask Harry anymore questions about it. It seemed rude. I wasn't a rude person.

"So, Ron," I said, "you were raised by wizards, were you?"

"Yeah, I'm pureblood," Ron said.

A boy across the table from us jumped in at this moment. He'd been eyeing us for quite sometime now, but hadn't said anything. "I'm half-and-half. Me dad's a muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they got married. Bit of a nasty shock when he found out." With that, the conversation moved into heritage. It didn't really interest me too much, but I kept up in it just to make friends with the people in my new house.

After a few minutes of chatting, Harry gasped and his hand shock up to his forehead. We all stopped to look at him, but Percy was the first one to speak, "What's wrong?"

Harry shook his head and muttered, "Nothing," but he continued to rub his forehead. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked.

"Oh, that's professor Snape. He teaches potions, but everyone know he fancies defense against the dark arts. He's been after Quirrell's job for years." Harry stared at Professor Snape for the rest of the meal, and I decided that he wasn't much of an interesting guy since all he did was eat with a frown.

The rest of the meal was fairly normal. I eat until I felt like I was going to pop, and the Professor Dumbledore stepped up to tell us to not to do this, don't touch that, don't go over here_—yada yada yada._ I really didn't care enough to listen, so I just closed my eyes, and propped my head up on my arm to take a little nap. It wasn't long though, for we were immediately swept off to our respected houses once Dumbledore had finished. Turns out that Percy is the Gryffindor prefect.

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**Thanks for that last review! It gave me just enough steam to get going.**

**If you've enjoyed my story so far, please let me know! Leave a comment, and let me know you're with me. Once again, I'd appreciate if you'd tell me what works, what doesn't, etc. Now that I've finished the sorting hat scene, I will do my best to avoid re-hashing what's already in the book. **

**Thanksthanksthanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Charlie:**

Harry Potter was popular and I hadn't the slightest idea why. As I walked down the halls, people would be gossiping about him; Gryffindor's all around would gloat about how he was _a really nice kid_. I, on the other hand, had gotten my own reputation for my little outburst with the sorting hat. I was 'the girl who threw a fit.' Potter was 'the boy who lived."

I stepped into Transfiguration, scanning the classroom for an empty seat. Just my luck, my first class was with McGonagall. I kept my eyes down and took a seat in the very back of the classroom. I unpacked my books, and opened them up to the page written on the chalkboard. Then I began to fiddle with the green sewings of my robe, wishing that they were red and golden. Green never suited me.

"Charlie!" A familiar voice called. I looked up to see Amy, fully decked out in Gryffindor gear. She slid into the empty spot next to me and pulled her things out. She looked peppy and so pleased to see me that I instinctually hunched over and put my head on the desk, still staring at my robes, "So, listen to this. I was walking down the halls, and I walked into a ghost—I think it was the Hufflepuff one and she—"

"You're still going to talk to me?" I asked blankly, glancing up at her. Amy looked confused, and then laughed.

"Why wouldn't I talk to you?" she said.

I sat up and shrugged, "I hear Gryffindor's aren't too friendly with Slytherins."

"Oh please, like I care about silly things like that." I couldn't help but smile, "Besides, you're the only person here that I know and the last time we talked, I thought you were cool. I don't see why that would change just because you're wearing a green tie." She picked up my tie and swung it around in my face, and I swatted it away. "Why? Are you trying to say that this seat is reserved for Slytherins only?"

I laughed, "They don't really talk to me."

"Cool with me. Means I get a spot over here. I like the back better anyways," She said as she wriggled around in her place. I laughed and imitated her. Then we both started doing the same groove, which eventually turned into dance in place. We giggled together as a few students looking over their shoulders at with glares. It didn't seem to bother Amy, so it didn't bother me either. For a a moment, I hoped that Amy and I would become best friends.

"Settle down," McGonagall said from the front of the classroom. We did, but Amy continued to jerk up and down humming every once in while. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing at her while Professor McGonagall went through the attendance. We were only missing two people—a boy named Ron Weasley, and of course Harry Potter.

McGonagall made us sit and take notes of the things that we had written down before class. Then, right before my eyes, the old woman sunk down and transformed into a cat. A cat! The cat perched itself up on the desk, and watched us intently. I wondered if the cat could _really _be the professor. It seemed nearly impossible, so I leaned over to Amy to ask her, who incidentally had stopped joking around and was now vigorously writing on her paper.

"How is that possible?" I whispered. Amy shrugged.

"Beats me. The wizarding world makes no sense whatsoever." She continued to write down the notes cautiously, her eyes flicking back and forth from the board to her notes. I wouldn't have tagged her for the type to care about doing well in class. I did my best to follow her example, but found my mind flickering to other things. Gryffindor, for example.

"So…" I began, "How's Gryffindor?"

"Fine." Amy said, "Good." She flipped to a blank page of paper, and continued to scribble the notes down. She obviously didn't want to talk, but I wanted to. I was too curious.

"Have you talked to Potter?" I asked.

"Yeah. He's cool. Kind of slow, but a nice guy I suppose." Amy said. I rolled my eyes, "I was supposed to wait for him and Ron to come to class together, but they were taking far too long so I just left," she explained. Of course she was friends with them. I sucked my lips in and started to take notes again.

A few minutes later, both Potter and Ron came running through the door of the class room, panting and making a scene. I was certain they'd done it on purpose for attention.

"Good thing McGonagall's not here," Ron panted, "Can you imagine the look on her face if she knew we were late?" I smiled as the cat perked up, and hoped down off of the desk and transformed back into a human. The two boys stood there gaping at her until Ron finally spoke.

"That was bloody brilliant, Professor," He said.

"Oh, thank you for that assessment Mr. Weasley. Though it is in no way close to the explanation behind why you two are late. Perhaps it would be more useful if I transfigure either you or Mr. Potter into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time."

"We got lost," Potter said.

"Then, perhaps a map?" McGonagall asked, "I trust you don't need one to find your seats." I snickered at the put down that McGonagall had laid on them, and found myself appreciating her a little more. Potter and Ron scrambled to only empty seats in the room—of course the one in front of Amy and I.

The fumbled with there things, as they tried to get settled in. Then whispered to eac hother, and turned around to talk to us.

"Amy, give us your notes," Ron stage whispered to her. Amy put her finger up with her head in her notebook. She finished the page and then looked up at the boys. "Come on!"

"That's no way to speak to a lady," Amy said with a smirk. She flipped the page, and continued to work. Ron looked over at Potter, and Potter shrugged. Ron then leaned back over to us, and tapped a finger on Amy's head, "That's no way to deal with a lady either," she said without moving form her hunch.

"Just give us the bloody notes!" Ron nearly shouted. McGonagall, still in human form, cleared her throat at us.

"Would you two shut it?" I hissed once McGonagall had looked away. "It's not our fault you were late. Just catch up."

"I don't think we'll have time," Potter said calmly, "We're only worried about not falling behind." Ooh, just Potter's tone of voice made me angry—as if he was trying to play the good guy or something.

"You're not all that great," I mumbled under my breath. Potter scruntched his face up, and opened his mouth as if he was getting ready to respond.

"Time or no time, you still haven't asked correctly," Amy said, which stopped Potter from speaking. Thank god. "You just have to say the magic word—"

"Obviously we haven't _learned_ the magic words yet, since we missed the beginning of class," Ron said. I rolled my eyes and Amy put her pencil down giving her just enough time to gape at Ron.

"You're an idiot, Ron," Amy said bluntly.

"Why?" Ron said. He looked offended, and confused mixed together in the same pale freckled face.

"She meant 'please,'" Potter muttered.

"Then why didn't you say so?" Ron hissed.

"I figured you'd understand the term, Ronald," Said Amy.

"What kind of term was that?" Ron said.

"Oh for god sake!" I shouted, "Take mine!' I tore my first page of notes out of my journal and shoved it in Potter's face. The rip made such a loud noise, that the whole room turned around to look at us. McGonagall's face was as red as a strawberry.

"Two points from each of you!" She yelled. We all flinched, and then didn't say another word for the rest of class.

Once it was over, however, Ron again turned around to talk to us. Well, Amy really. "Harry and I are going to Hagrid's after potions today, and we were wondering if you want to come?" It took Amy all of two seconds to accept the invitation, and then they all left together in a crowd. I obviously wasn't invited.

I gathered my things up, managed to catch up with a group of Slytherins' walking with each other through the corridor. When I got up close, I quickly realized it was Malfoy's gang, "Hey," I said.

"Charlie? What're you doing coming out of the Transfiguration classroom?" Malfoy asked. He was sneering at me, which made me extremely uncomfortable. I did my best to seem casual regardless.

"I have class there, why?"

"Slytherin's don't have Transfigurations first period," Malfoy explained.

"I do," I said. I opened up my schedule to double check. My finger quickly found its place on the first period block, and sure enough it said 'Transfiguration.' "Yeah, here it is." Malfoy snatched my schedule out of my hands, and scanned it.

"Huh." He gave it back to me in a crumpled mess, " 'spose that means you have class with Potter."

I groaned, "Don't talk to me about that kid. I really don't want to hear it."

Malfoy raised a brow at this, "What's the matter, Charlie. Don't like Potter?" We both stopped, and his posse stopped as well. They'd been trailing behind Malfoy silently, and hadn't said a word since I joined them. I'd heard rumors about Malfoy in the little time we've been at Hogwarts, but his was the name I'd heard most often associated with negativity.

"No," I said confidently.

Malfoy smirked, "Why not?"

"He's not all that great," I said. "And he sure as heck doesn't deserve all the attention he gets." Even though I had no idea what had brought the attention upon him, I was confident it wasn't enough to explain why everyone adores him.

Malfoy started walking again, and I had to run a little to catch up to him, "You know, Charlie, you're not all that bad. You don't get enough credit."

"I agree. I don't." I muttered—mostly to myself, but Malfoy heard it and he laughed out loud. It was almost shocking to hear him laughing, when mostly I've just seen him sit, smirking. Either way, if Malfoy was at all enjoying my presence, I wa going to make use of it. I'd prove that I didn't need Gryffindor, and become friends with Malfoy. While Amy, Ron, and Potter, were going off together in the woods, I'd be with Malfoy. Yeah, that'd be perfect. So, I gathered my wits, cleared my throat and managed to say, "We should be friends."

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**Hey guys! Same as always, R&R!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Amy:**

Harry, Ron and I trudged back to the castle after our visit to Hagrid's. I'd never met Hagrid before, only seen him in the distance looming over other students. Simply based on my first impressions of him, he was freighting with his large beard, tattered clothing, and stern face; not to mention the fact that he was at least twice my height.

Our afternoon tea with Hagrid made me realize he was just a big teddy bear. Hagrid was without doubt the sweetest adult at Hogwarts. He made us tea, consoled Harry (Harry had lost us another two points during Potions), and then let us read the Daily Prophet. I'd thought it would be a very calm afternoon, but Harry kept insisting that a break-in that had occurred at Gringotts in London had something to do with out school. Apparently, Hagrid and Harry had gone there together the day that it was broken into. Harry seemed to be convinced that the thief was trying to get something from Hagrid's vault. Quite frankly, I thought he was just melodramatic.

"Harry, that's mad," Ron said as we made our way back up the hill, "I mean, who knows how many vaults are in there, and how many people empty their vaults out that day as well? It's just a coincidence."

"But, you don't understand!" Harry whined, "Hagrid told me that what he was doing was Hogwarts business—very secret. And you didn't see the look on his face when I read the article, Hagrid couldn't look me in the eye."

"Harry, you're being paranoid. There's nothing to worry about," I said calmly. Harry looked over at me, and then sighed in defeat.

"You're probably right," he said, "I just can't shake the feeling that there's something going on here. Something, I don't know, not right."

I shrugged, "Hogwarts is magical, meaning it's secretive by default. I know for a fact that we have secret passageways, secret books, secret rooms and secret objects. I'm sure more than one of them is '_not right.'_" Ron seemed to agree with me, and Harry could do nothing more than let go. "Let's just enjoy this lovely weather." I added on. Harry began sulking and I rolled my eyes.

The three of us walked silently until we got to the castle entrance, where I noticed Malfoy and Charlie were talking together. I can't say that I was exactly pleased to see Malfoy with her, but I smiled and waved at Charlie. Harry and Ron recognized her as well.

"Is that the girl from this morning?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes to look at her. I was still waving, but Charlie hadn't looked up. She and Malfoy were laughing about something together.

"Charlie!" I called. She looked up, and our eyes met. I waved even more enthusiastically, but she turned away so quickly that I don't think she could even see it. Malfoy noticed us, and his face grew cold.

"Why don't you get lost, Gryffindors?" Malfoy called. Charlie dropped her head down farther, and began pulling her hair over her face—as if that could help. I knew it was her. Why was she hiding? Was she embarrassed being friends with me? I waited for a sign, anything, to show me that she still thought of me as on her side. Hadn't I said it in transfiguration? I wanted to be friends with her, Slytherin or not. I assumed she felt the same way. Charlie continued to hide herself, and Malfoy kept shouting at us to go away. It was a lost cause.

"Come on guys," I said, "let's go."

"Is that her, though?" Harry asked. I shook my head and started to walk quickly away from Malfoy and Charlie.

When we arrived back in the common room, I split off from Ron and Harry and went to talk to the Weasley twins. Although I'd never met them, Ron had told me that they had a taste for mischief and, as a result, knew all the dirty details of the school. The two of them sat together in the far corner of the room, next to the fireplace. I approached them slowly.

"Ah, Amy Helville," One said, "we've heard a lot about you from our brother."

"Nice to see that he's actually making friends, especially those of the opposite gender," said the other.

"To be perfectly honest, we always thought he's gotten too many of the ugly genes. By the way, I'm George."

"And I'm Fred. We won't get offended if you can't tell the difference."

I knew that distinguishing the two wouldn't too hard. They looked extremely similar, but I'd met many twins in my life. I was certain that Fred and George would be no different. "Is there anything we can do for you, my dear?" George asked.

"I was just wondering why Slytherin and Gryffindor's don't get along."

"Ah," George sighed, "you mean why don't Slytherins get along with _anybody?_ Good question." Fred crossed his arms and nodded along with his brother, "The conclusion we've come to is that while Gryffindors care more about the people around them, Slytherins don't." I pursed my lips, and then pulled a chair over to sit with the twins. Their answer did not satisfy me in the least.

"Is that the only difference?" I asked, "I mean, that doesn't seem like a good enough reason for Slytherins and Gryffindors to hate each other so much."

"Well, if you think about it that way; then no, it's not a good enough reason. But it _is_ the reason," said Fred. "Personally, I don't like Slytherins because they don't seem to have a moral bone in their body." Fred and George nodded in agreement with each other. I couldn't understand why they were just accepting that as a reason.

"Other than that, Slytherins are very similar to us. I mean, Harry was able to persuade the hat to let him go to Gryffindor, right? And Charlie almost got to go too," I interjected.

"Ah—yes, the 'switch,'" George sighed. "That does happen every once in a while."

"What's the 'switch'?" I asked.

"Well, it's when the sorting hat agrees to switch a student to another house than the hats original choice," George explained.

"Like what happened to Harry," said Fred, "It's usually from a Gryffindor to a Slytherin, or vise versa." Fred perked up in his spot, and pulled his wand from out of his cloak. I turned around to see what Fred was looking at—Ron getting ready to sit down on a seat next to Harry. I heard both Fred and George mumble in unison, "_Accio chair,_" from behind me. As Ron slowly lowered himself to sit, the chair came flying towards us. Ron fell to the ground with a loud bang, and then looked around with a stunned face. Fred and George snickered under their breath.

I rolled my eyes, and got up from my spot with the twins. I still didn't feel satisfied with their answer, but they weren't giving me much more to work with. I decided that the only thing that I could do was talk to Charlie.


	5. Chapter 5

**Trying something new with Harry's POV. Let me know what you think about it in the comments!**

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**Harry:**

Amy, Ron and I stood together in line as Madam Hooch carefully looked over each and every one of us. My fingers twitched in excitement, as if there were an electrical current flowing between the broom and I. Across from me, Malfoy was wearing a smirk. He already had his hand raised over the broom.

"Typical," I said to Ron, "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron. I appreciated his reassurance, although I can't say that I believed him. "Besides, I bet that Malfoy isn't even all that good." I nodded, still feeling uncertain of myself.

Amy was calm, standing over the broom. She seemed like it didn't even phase her that it was there, her attention was placed elsewhere. When I followed her gaze, I noticed it was to the little blonde girl standing next to Malfoy. Amy had told us repeatedly that she didn't know this girl, but I knew she did. I had always recognized the girl as the one who threatened to punch me in line to be sorted; she's hard to forget. She was also the girl who wanted to be in Gryffindor. None of it connected in Ron's mind, but it seemed very obvious to me though I couldn't recall her name.

The girl caught me staring at her and she grimaced. That expression shocked me quite a bit, considering we'd never really talked to each other.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Madam Hooch shouted, "Everyone stick your right hand over the broom, and say 'UP'!"

"Up!" I shouted, and the broom zoomed into my grip. I couldn't help but crack a smile, as its contact with me sent shiver down my smile. I looked over to see how everyone was doing. As Ron shouted to his broom, it rolled around on the ground confusedly. Malfoy, like me, was gripping the broom with confidence. Amy was having a little trouble with hers, but eventually it flew up into her hand. Amy's friend's broom wasn't moving in the slightest which seemed to irritate Malfoy.

"What're you doing?" Malfoy barked, "I thought you said your father taught you how to fly a broom?" The girl adjusted awkwardly under Malfoy's gaze.

"H-he did!" she said nervously, "H-he did. It's just that these brooms—they're absolutely awful. Mine must be defective."

"Whatever. Just get it up. Potter's got his already," Malfoy said. I hated that I had to be dragged into their argument. I hadn't the slightest clue why my broom worked, I'd never even seen one work before today. I figured they must've been like horses and could tell when people were afraid. The girl was obviously afraid, if not by the concept of flying then by Malfoy screaming in her ear.

"Malfoy, why don't you lay off of her, okay?" Amy shouted.

"Why don't you mind your own bloody business, _Helville,"_ Malfoy hissed. The Slytherin girl shot an extra glare over at Amy. "Seriously. All you Gryffindors think you can just butt in whenever you want—"

"Quit it, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. It startled me, since I had no idea Ron was even in the conversation to begin with. Madam Hooch shouted at us, and we all clamped our mouths shut. Finally, the girl was able to get hold of her broom. She nearly lost to Neville, but of course he came in dead last.

"Everyone on to your brooms," Madam Hooch shouted when Neville had gotten control. We all slowly stepped onto them, awkwardly trying to find a place that felt natural to us. Madam Hooch then went around, checking to make sure we wouldn't fall off once we were in flight. She came around to me, and with a small smirk she approved. Ron, apparently was all wrong, and she kept slapping him into place. "No! Not like that, Weasley! Honestly, your brothers are on the team, shouldn't you know this?" Ron just whimpered a response.

Madam Hooch then moved to Malfoy. Malfoy was grinning with his chin in the air, and Madam Hooch immediately pushed his head down. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she made every adjustment possible to Malfoy's form. Amy, Ron and I giggled as he was scolded for bad posture.

The Slytherin girl was next. Her posture was the exact opposite of Malfoy—hunched and intimidated. Even so, I could tell she was a very intense person, for even though she looked at the ground, she looked as though she intended to devour it. Hooch was careful with her as she slowly positioned the girl correctly. Then, as a parting suggestion, Madam Hooch wrapped her long fingers around the girl's hand on the broomstick, and shook it.

"You've got a nice strong grip," Madam Hooch said softly, "don't forget to keep it there when you're suspended." The girl nodded, and then Hooch continued onwards.

After she'd gone through the entire class, Madam Hooch took her place in front of us again. "Now, when I blow my whistle you will kick off from the ground," She explained, "keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down. Understand?" The class grunted a response, "Good. Now, on my whistle—three—two—"

Suddenly a few people over from me, I saw Neville slowly rising into the air. He must've been so frightened that he accidentally leapt before Madame Hooch blew her whistle. Neville tried as hard as he could to get the broom to come down to the ground, but the broom just kept rising. Madame Hooch was now insisting that he _come back down this instant!_ Though I'm sure she could tell Neville hadn't the slightest idea how.

Neville's face grew whiter with every rising foot, and no indication of slowing down. I had no idea how he could possibly get down on his own. I looked over to Madame Hooch to see if she would hop on a broom of her own, and go to save him or, perhaps, whip out her wand and say some spell that would return Neville safely to the ground. Unfortunately, she was just as at a loss as we were.

Amy's friend was the only one who spoke up—and her voice cracked through the crowd. "_Jump, you idiot!"_ she shouted. So, Neville did exactly that. He must've been 25, perhaps 30 feet up in the air before he rolled off. He slammed down onto the grass with a great _thump_. We all ran to circle him to see if he was okay but Madame Hooch was already standing over him before we could get a closer look.

"Oh dear, a broken wrist," Madame Hooch mumbled, bending over to touch Neville's arm. She began to raise Neville onto his feet who's face was bright red and soaked with tears. They both promptly walked off to the hospital wing. Of course, Madame Hooch didn't forget to warn us that flying without her would land us on the Hogwarts express back to London.

"I can't believe the fat lump actually jumped," I heard Malfoy snicker. "He really is an idiot." The other Slytherins gave him smug smiles—that is, besides Amy's friend (I really needed to learn her name). The girl slipped out from the Slytherin group, and very carefully edged her way out of the circle of first years. I glanced over to see if Amy was watching, but she was no longer in her spot next to Ron. _When did she leave?_

"Look!" Malfoy shouted, snapping my attention back to him. He jumped forward, and snatched something off of the ground, "Neville dropped his Rememberall. Maybe if the fat limp had given this a squeeze, he would've remembered to fall on his fat ass."

Hermione Granger, one of the more annoying members off our house, gasped in offense. Malfoy began to slip the Rememberall into his pocket, and I quickly stepped forward, "Give it here, Malfoy," I demanded. The whole crowd went silent.

Malfoy smiled nastily at me, and stepped onto his broom. He held out the Rememberall in his hand as if taunting it with me. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for him to find," he said as the broom lifted up into the air with ease. He hovered over us and glanced around, "How about the roof, or a tree?"

I clenched my fists around my broom, but did not move. I couldn't jeopardize losing Gryffindor any more points than I already had.

"Oh, what's the matter Potter? Don't have it in you?" Malfoy laughed. He spun around on his broom above me.

I mounted my broom—_Forget the points—_I thought to myself. Hermione Granger jumped in front of me with her arms out, "You'll get us in trouble. Again! Harry, no way!" I kicked off of the ground, and went flying after Malfoy with Hermione yelling at me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Charlie:**

After sneaking away from flying class, I had no idea where to go in order to find the Hospital wing. At first I couldn't admit that I was lost, but the more corridors I passed through the more frustrated and angry I became. There I was, trying to do my best to make sure Neville was okay and I couldn't find my way through the darn castle. Of course.

I wondered if the corridors were like the Grand Staircase in that they moved. I hated the Grand Staircase. On more than one occasion I had been completely turned around on my way to class by means of the staircases just deciding to send me to a different part of the castle. Why couldn't magic be used for more pragmatic things like an arrow that leads wherever you need to go? Not once in my time at Hogwarts (which had only been around a month) had magic made my life easier.

I walked by a large statue of a pig, and sighed. It was the same one that I had passed just a few minutes before. I slapped myself on the head a few times, and tried my best to remember something, _anything_, about what we had been taught in navigating the castle. I drew a blank.

"Charlie?" A familiar voice called. It was Amy, coming around the corridor that I had just turned from. I sucked in a breath. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see her, for I had been avoiding her, but there really wasn't a good reason why. "What are you doing?"

"Er-I was…" I said. I tried to think of something that legitimate, but couldn't come up with anything. "I was trying to find the hospital wing," I said honestly, "I've been going around in circles for the passed twenty minutes."

"For Neville?" I nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. "It's not on this side of the castle," Amy laughed. "Didn't you know that?" I shrugged and looked at the ground. I didn't need anyone laughing in my face, even if it was just Amy. "Come on," she said, "I'll show you where it is."

I trailed behind Amy for quite some time in silence. She didn't seem to mind taking the lead, and she didn't push me into talking. It was a nice change of pace compared to my time with Malfoy. Malfoy was all about being forward—not letting anyone beat us to anything, so I couldn't sit relax for a moment with him. But Amy intimidated me; she was all that I couldn't push myself to become, someone who other people seemed to just be drawn to. I just repelled people.

Amy suddenly came to a stop. I stopped as well, waiting for her to continue onward. Unfortunately, she just turned to be with an apologetic smile and mumbled, "I think we're lost."

"You're joking," I said. "I thought you said you knew where the Hospital wing was!"

Amy tapped her finger on her chin, and pursed her lips as if to be in deep thought, "Well, I guess you can say…" she paused for a moment and then smiled, "I thought I did."

I threw my hands into the air with a fit of rage, and shouted at the top of my lounges, "ARE YOU SERIOUS? AND YOU DRAGGED ME ALL THE WAY HERE—WHERE ARE WE?" I hadn't thought about it since I trusted Amy's sense of direction, but the more I looked around, the more I couldn't help feeling like we in an area that's off limits. Amy didn't seem to care, for she just kept looking around as if there was something that might help us. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No," She said bluntly. She gasped and darted up to a painting on the wall. I could've sworn that this corridor walls were empty, but there the portrait hung, plastered in the center of the wall. It was a painting of a beautifully classic old woman, with white wavy hair that fell to her shoulders. "Hello again, Fanny," Amy said to the portrait.

"Hello dear," the portrait responded, "lovely to see you again. This is the first time you've got a guest with you. May I enquire to who she is?"

Amy turned to me, and waved me over. I stood awkwardly beside her. I had never spoken to a Portrait before, nor was I even certain how to interact with them. "Hi! Erm…I'm Charlie and…erm…" I couldn't get the words out correctly, so instead I just shoved my hand out, as if the portrait could reach out and shake my extended hand. Fanny the portrait cleared her throat, and kept her hands laying flat on her lap.

"We need a way to the Hospital Wing. Think you can help?" Amy interjected.

"Of course," Fanny said. And with that, the Portrait swung open, revealing a small door. Amy opened it without hesitation, and motioned for me to go ahead of her. I walked through and she followed, shutting the door behind her. The corridor that was behind the painting had no windows, and was lit every few steps with floating specks of light. The walls were coated with intricate purple tapestries with pictures of unicorns and faeries dancing around. If I blinked, they'd move.

"What is this?" I asked Amy as we moved down the corridor.

"It's a magic secret passage way," Amy said coolly. "They're all over the castle, don't act so surprised."

I bit my lip, "I've never been in one."

Amy shrugged as if it was no big deal, yet still I was in awe. "There's the door," Amy said. Just a head of us, was another small door. She opened it, and stepped down. I hopped down after her, and the portrait closed behind us. Fanny was still there smiling kindly at us.

"Thanks Fanny," Amy said to the woman. "As always."

"It's a pleasure, my dear," Fanny said in return. I thanked the portrait as well. Then, Amy nudged me. Just ahead of us was the Hospital Wing.

Neville was sitting in a chair, holding a glass of something that he did not at all seem interested in drinking. "Madam Pomfrey, you already _fixed_ my wrist," he whined to the school Nurse, "do I _really_ need to drink this?"

"Of course you do! My charms will fix your bones, all right. That'll strengthen them, and prevent any further damage," Madam Pomfrey huffed. She had her hands on her hips, and was tapping her feet impatiently.

Neville looked down at the drink, frowned, threw his head back and drank the whole thing in one go. Amy seemed impressed by this and clapped her hands, "Way to go Neville!" She shouted. Both Neville and Madam Pomfrey were shocked when they realized we were standing in the doorway.

"Amy?" Neville said, sitting up straight.

"What business do you two have in here?" Madam Pomfrey huffed.

"Visiting Neville," I explained. "We were there when it happened, and we wanted to see if he was okay."

Neville wasn't sure how to respond, so Madam Pomfrey did for him, "He's perfectly fine as of now. It would've taken less time if he'd only drank the potion sooner." She then hurried over to the back of the room, and began organizing the potions cabinet, "Oh, and you can go Mr. Longbottom."

Neville slowly got up to his chair, and walked up to us as if he was walking to his death. When he stood in front of us, he cleared his throat and said, "Why'd you two visit me?"

"Well, it was quite a fall you had, wasn't it?" Amy said as she crossed her arms across her chest. "As concerned fellow students, we wanted to make sure that you weren't mortally wounded." She glanced back at me and then gestured for me to say something.

I cleared my throat, as I tried to come up with something to say, "It hurt, didn't it?" I said, rather forcefully I admit. Neville dropped his head and nodded shyly. "Well," I sighed, "I'm glad you're okay."

Neville looked up at me as if it was the last thing he was expecting from me. Amy broke into a smile and said, "Not as bad as she's made out to seem, is she?"

"N-not at all," Neville said, "Thank you."

I shrugged and dropped my head, covering my mouth with my hand. I could feel my cheeks getting hot.

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**In case you were wondering, the portrait is an OC as well. Thanks for reading! :)**


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